


Sex Education for the Booksmart

by Rly



Category: Booksmart (2019), Sex Education (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Coming In Pants, Crossover, Dildos, F/F, Oral Sex, Using An Ejaculating Dildo Like a Water Pistol, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23100430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rly/pseuds/Rly
Summary: Once you start thinking about it, these characters just have to meet. After Amy's trip to Botswana is delayed by a few weeks, she ends up accompanying Hope, Molly and Jared to England.
Relationships: Amy/Hope (Booksmart), Jared/Molly (Booksmart), Ola/Lily (Sex Education)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of my fic, "What Are You Doing for the Summertime?" so if you wanted to see the very awkward start of Amy/Hope, read that first: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20212474?view_full_work=true

Arriving at Hope's for the first time in the middle of the night, when Hope's mom was out, Amy didn't look around much, though peripherally she could tell the house was nicer and bigger than hers. Still, Hope's room was only slightly bigger than hers, though she did have a whole, big bed, not some kid-like bunk beds, plus a whole wall of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. 

"Wow," Amy says. 

"I trust them," Hope replies, her voice softer than usual, like she’s talking about her best friends in the world, and Amy suspects she is. 

Amy walks over to the shelves to at least see how they're arranged and what’s on them. Lots of slim volumes but also paperbacks and graphic novels and two shelves of comic books over a shelf of manga. 

She feels Hope step behind her, close enough to touch, and turns around to kiss her. Either the books are an aphrodisiac or the fact that they're alone in a house, in a bedroom with a door that locks. Amy backs Hope against the bookshelves and slides a hand under her shirt. 

Conscious thought doesn’t return until her elbow hits one of the shelves and Amy realizes it’s a bottom shelf--and that she’s on top of Hope on the floor, across from a very nice bed. 

"We missed the bed."

"By a lot. Try again?" 

Amy rolls off Hope. "Lead the way." So she can watch Hope walk across the room. Hope obliges by pausing beside the bed to slowly strip off her shirt and bra, shorts and panties. Amy rolls to her feet and sprints to the bed, shedding clothes on the way.

*

In the middle of the night, Hope's phone makes a horribly cheerful noise. Amy rolls over to see her holding it up as a dark-haired, middle-aged, ruggedly handsome man peers into the screen asking, "How do I turn on the video? I can't see you."

"It's on," Hope grumbles. 

"I can't see you. Why can't I see you? What button do I push?"

"Dad, you can only turn on your video, not mine. It’s the middle of the fucking night."

Hope's dad? Amy rolls the rest of the way over and considers the phone screen without being too obvious, she hopes. There is some resemblance in the thick black hair and long, dramatic noses.

"It can't be," he's saying. "I waited until noon." 

"It's five a.m. here. Why are you calling?" 

"I missed you," he says. "I wanted to see you. Are you sure I'm not supposed to hit some button on this end?" 

"Fuck," Hope sighs. She shoves a pillow against the headboard, sits up, pulls the blanket nearly up to her chin, turns on the bedside light and her phone's camera. "There. Okay. You can see me and see that it's dark outside because it's still night here. I'm going back to sleep."

"Wait, can we talk? I want to ask you something?"

"Dad." Hope breathes out a long sigh and looks at Amy, who's resting her head on her hand and no longer pretending to sleep. "I'm not alone." 

"But you're in bed ... Oh, well, good. Do I get to meet her?" 

"Yeah, this is totally how any girl I'm dating wants to meet my father, I'm sure. How about you wait until sometime when we're dressed, okay?"

"What's her name?"

"Amy." 

"That's a pretty name. Hi, Amy. I look forward to meeting you." 

"Um, hi?" Amy ventures. Also: she and Hope are dating? Did Hope just say they were dating? She absolutely wants to be dating Hope but figured it would be, like, more days from now. 

"She sounds nice. I hope you had a good time," he says. "And used protection, or whatever it is lesbians do."

"I cannot believe you don't know that," Hope tells him. "You're a sex therapist and I had to google lesbian safer sex, you realize. Do you know how crap that is?"

Hope's dad is a sex therapist? And she talks to him like this—and he probably deserves it? That explains so much. 

He ignores her question. "Honey, what are you doing this month? Come over to Britain for a week or two. It's lovely here." 

"I was going to hitchhike the southwest while reading all the beat poets. I don't want to come drag behind you for the rest of your book tour."

"It won't be like that. Bring Amy. Read British poets. You can have whatever you want. I just need more friendly faces. Please, support your old dad."

Hope sighs and leans her head against the wall, closing her eyes. "I'll think about it." 

"You can meet your brother. He's quite the young man now. You'll like each other." 

"I doubt that." 

"You see, that's just what he would say. I'll transfer you money for two tickets. Get nice ones. I've emailed my itinerary, just pick where you want to meet me." 

"I'm going back to sleep, Dad. We can talk about this later." 

"Love you. Bye, Amy," he says as Hope ends the connection and tosses her phone onto the floor by the bed. 

Amy bunches up her pillow, still lying down but elevating her head and shoulders. She reaches for Hope and pulls her down, so her head is on Amy's chest. Hope sighs, wrapping an arm around Amy’s waist. Her hair smells like spiced almond cookies that’ve been nearly burnt, so of course Amy wants to roll on top of her and kiss down her body, but she makes herself lie still. 

"You have a brother you've never met?" Amy asks. 

"Yeah, Dad knocked up my mom in an affair they had while he was married to my brother's mom,” Hope says, her voice flat. “Then he divorced her to come back and marry my mom, who's now divorcing him. It's as great as it sounds."

"And your dad's a sex therapist?" 

"A famous one," she says with a snort. "At least according to him. I've got his books around here somewhere: Remi Milburn. You can google him." 

"After I google lesbian safer sex, right?" 

Hope chuckles. "Nah, I got us covered on that. You want to come to Britain with me?"

"What?"

"It's halfway to Botswana and he's not going to drop it until I go. He'll shower us with cash and then ignore us most of the time, so parts of it could be fun. And I'd rather not go alone." 

Amy meant to say no, to come up with a bunch of reasons she had to stay here. That’s what the old Amy would’ve said—the one who wasn’t yet dating Hope. Instead she asks, "Do we get our own hotel rooms with 'do not disturb' signs and room service?"


	2. Chapter 2

Unhappy about Amy leaving the States to galavant around with Hope, Molly complained too much to Jared, and suddenly all four of them had first-class tickets for a ten-day jaunt in southwest England. Jared also arranged for a very nice rental car and, since there were no good hotels in the area—according to Jared—he'd rented them a house. He'd also found them a chef, after Hope complained that she wanted room service. 

Amy doesn’t remember much of the first day in London; she’s so jetlagged and overwhelmed and only wants to curl up in bed with Hope. They manage that for part of the afternoon—in the hotel where they’re staying for one night to catch up to local time. Amy offers to go to dinner with Hope and Remi, but Hope says she’ll manage one dinner by herself while Amy gets some sleep. Then Jared drives them too many hours through lovely landscape to the place he’s rented.

The house is lakeside with stunning views from nearly every room. It’s shaped like a C to take advantage of this. Hope walks through it quickly, finds a bedroom on the far side of the C and claims it for her and Amy. Molly and Jared take rooms on the other side of the house. 

Amy can’t regret that Molly came with them. She still can’t imagine what she’s going to do for a year without her. But she also wants as much time as possible with Hope. The last few days, and the flight over, she’s gotten more stories about Hope’s life than she ever could’ve imagined. She gets the sarcasm in a whole different way now. She wants the sarcasm now. 

“This is perfect,” Amy says from the balcony. 

From the doorway, Hope tells her, “Not quite. The sink in the adjoining bathroom isn’t working. We’ll have to use the one on the other side of the house until Jared can get a plumber or someone out here.” 

Amy steps back into the bedroom as Hope closes the door to the bathroom. 

“We’ll have to not make a mess,” Amy says with a smirk. 

“Can’t promise.” Hope smirks back. 

“We should try the bed,” Amy suggests. 

The bed is every bit as good as Hope’s, but with the benefit of not being in a house with a parent who might show up at any time. They get to the unbuttoning shirts stage before someone knocks on the door. 

“Go away!” Hope says. 

Molly replies brightly from the other side of the door, “I brought up your other bags from the car. Figured you didn’t want Jared digging around in them. I’m pretty sure these are yours.”

“Oh shit!” Hope hops up from the bed and lunges for the door with uncharacteristic speed. She lets Molly hand her two shopping bags. 

“Don’t scissor too hard,” Molly says. “Dinner’s at six and Jared called the plumber.”

Hope drops the bags by the dresser and heads for the bed, but Amy is climbing out of it. “What’s in the bags that Jared shouldn’t see?”

“You sure you want to know?” Hope asks and, when Amy nods, tosses her a box from one of the bags.

The illustrations on the outside suggest that the contents are very blue-purple and shaped like a small eggplant but, even more, shaped like an average-sized penis, except smoother. 

“You bought us a …”

“Dildo,” Hope finishes for her. “I wasn’t planning on it, but my dad got us two.”

Amy drops the box on the bed. “Your  _ dad _ got us this?”

“No, that would be weird. He got the other two in the bag. I bought that one when I was trying to return the first two. Turns out you can’t return dildos that your dad opened to look at because he was curious and has no boundaries.”

Amy picks up the box again, turning it in her hands, looking at all the photos and illustrations. “Were you going to wear it?” She’s not sure she could, or wants to, accommodate this new addition to their relationship. 

Hope crosses the room and rests her hands on Amy’s, cupping the box between both their palms. “No, I was going to put it on you.”

The lightning bolt down Amy’s spine is almost enough to knock her off her feet. Hope has to feel the shudder through their joined hands.

“How do we do that?” Amy asks. 

Hope takes the box from her hands and puts it on the bed, then kneels and unbuttons her jeans, tugs them down her thighs. Amy’s tempted to ask if she should help, but watching Hope is too enchanting. Hope opens the box, taking out dark straps and the blue-purple dildo. 

“It won’t fit under your panties,” Hope says. 

Amy steps out of her jeans and panties, then back into the jeans, pulling them to mid-thigh. She can hear voices downstairs and coming up the stairs, the clunk of metal against a wall. The hall door to the bathroom opens, more voices. The plumber must be here and Amy has the idea that at least if she has her jeans on, if they have to run out of the house because a pipe explodes or something, she can shove the dildo into her pants and not be too obvious. 

Hope weaves dark straps around her legs, threads them through the metal rings on the other side of the harness. The dildo goes through an O-ring at the front and then Hope pulls it tight. 

“How’s this?” she asks, wrapping a hand around the blue-purple length and pressing it back against Amy’s clit. There’s a slanted part with rounded ridges that slides along her clit as Hope moves it, thrumming in a delightful way.

“Oh! That’s a lot better than I expected.” Amy snugs the straps tighter around her hips and pulls up her jeans, fly open, dildo hanging out. “I don’t really know what to do with this. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I have a bigger one than that at home,” Hope says, but gently. “Do you want me on top?”

“Yeah.” Amy barely gets the word out, has to clear her throat and swallow a few times. 

Hope is smirking again, her eyes dancing darkly. She crosses the room and drags a chair to the open place between bed and dresser, then guides Amy to sit in it. She sits across Amy’s thighs, the dildo awkwardly in front of her, and they kiss until they’re both breathing hard. 

Then Hope stands and looks down at Amy. “We should’ve washed it,” Hope says. She takes off her T-shirt and pours water from her glass onto it. She rubs the wet fabric over the silicone, pushing it against Amy until she’s squirming in the chair. 

Hope shucks her bra while Amy is stripping out of her own T-shirt and bra. Amy still feels ridiculous with this bright, insistent thing jutting up from her lap, but those feelings are being overshadowed by how much she wants Hope back in her lap, their breasts rubbing together, the pressure of Hope’s body directed into the most sensitive parts of Amy’s. 

Hope gets a brown plastic bottle from the bag and hands it to her. “Put some lube on it.”

Amy tries to squirt some onto her fingers while Hope steps out of her pants and panties, but it won’t come out. She unscrews the top, takes off the plastic covering the opening, puts the top back on, while watching Hope drape her clothes over the other chair. She could watch Hope walk around naked all day. Maybe sometime during this next week she’ll get to. 

She upends the lube bottle over the jutting blue-purple dildo and squeezes. The poorly-screwed top comes off completely, globs of lube pouring into her lap. Amy half rises to standing, ready to run for the bathroom and a towel, but there are voices on the other side of the bathroom door. No way is she letting some old dude plumber with a visible butt-crack see this situation. 

Hope’s hands press on her shoulders, making her sit back down. Hope kneels, forcing Amy’s legs open. “I thought you were trying not to make a mess,” she says, laughing. 

Amy tips her head back, unwilling to look, cheeks burning. Hope’s fingers stroke her upper thighs where the lube is soaking into her jeans. Those hot fingers draw the heavy wetness of the lube to Amy’s crotch, making sure it gets wet all the way through, even though her jeans are already plenty wet from the inside. 

Hope’s hands stroke up and down her thighs, painting all the lube across and into the denim. When Amy does look, she’s soaked from crotch almost to her knees—and it looks  _ so hot _ with Hope’s big eyes staring up at her from amid the ruin of her jeans. This is how she feels about Hope, this much wet, this much obvious need. She feels bolted to the chair while Hope’s hands wrap around the dildo and stroke it down against Amy’s clit. 

Amy is gripping the sides of the chair’s set. She lets her head roll back for a moment, eyes closed, feeling everything, but this highlights the rising voices in the bathroom. There’s a girl in there, and a boy, or maybe two girls and a boy. Where’s the plumber? None of the voices are familiar, but Amy isn’t sure she’d be able to tell, given how much of her attention is on Hope’s hands, rubbing lube into the denim at her crotch.

She hears one girl yell, “—not yours!” And a distinctly other girls’ voice saying, “Don’t you dare.” 

Amy wants to yell back and tell them to shut up because she’s is having a Lesbian Experience™ here, but she can only manage a groan. She opens her eyes and Hope is still kneeling between her legs, utterly naked, smiling up at her. 

Until the bathroom door flies open, banging into the wall, and two people fall into the room, followed by a third. Hope jumps up and back, toward the bed. She grabs the throw blanket and holds it in front of her. Amy has surged to her feet, but there’s nothing for her to grab. 

The two people wrestling on the floor are a small, brown-skinned girl with a puff of curly brown hair and a very skinny, extremely pale boy, also with brown hair. The girl in the doorway is every bit as pale as the boy and even taller, her dark hair in two artful mini-buns. Amy’s so intent on figuring out who all these people are that it takes her a minute to realize she’s not wearing a shirt.

And her pants are open. With the dildo. And all that lube. 

She shoves the dildo down and sideways into her jeans and tries to zip them, but they won’t zip around the extra bulk, which is now clearly outlined by the dark, wet denim. 

“Is that a dildo?” the tall girl in the doorway asks matter-of-factly. 

This makes the two people on the floor stop wrestling and stare up at Amy. The small girl folds a thick sheaf of papers and tucks them into the front of her overalls while the boy carefully climbs off her. 

“You can be a real ass,” she tells him. 

“That’s not fair,” he says sullenly, but he’s not looking at her anymore. He’s trying very obviously not to stare at Amy and failing. 

Hope retrieves Amy’s shirt from the far side of the bed where they’d tossed it and hands it to Amy, who tugs it on gratefully. It’s not long enough to cover the front of her jeans. She looks down to check and the big lump of dildo is still super obvious. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Hope asks. 

“Oh, sorry, I’m Ola, I’m fixing your sink,” the small girl says brightly. “That’s my girlfriend Lily and this is Otis. We’re sorry we interrupted your … um, well, we’re sorry.” 

“Otis?” Hope stammers, her brashness gone. “ _ You’re _ Otis?” 

The boy shrugs, looking supremely uncomfortable. Amy suspects this is because the front of his pants is starting to look a lot like hers, except his boner is the organic kind and is pointing straight forward like a flagpole. For goodness sake, she’s had a fake dick for two minutes and she already knows to tuck it to the side, how has he not figured this out?

With more dignity than should be possible for a person holding a small throw blanket in front of their naked body, Hope draws herself up, stares evenly at him and says, “I’m Hope.”

“No,” Otis says. “No no no. You’re my sister? You?!” Like he’s personally offended, maybe by Hope’s nakedness or her beauty. Or both of those and the fact of Amy and the obviousness of his full-on hardness under his unfortunately loose pants. He catches on to the extent of this last development a moment later, stares down in alarm and runs out through the bathroom door.

Ola is shaking her head while Lily blinks in confusion or surprise or some third emotion Amy can’t guess. 

“I didn’t know Otis had a sister,” Lily says in her plain way that makes the statement sound a lot less loaded than it could be. She makes it sound like they’re all standing around in a supermarket and she’s commenting on a new flavor of mac-n-cheese.

“Half-sister, really,” Hope replies. “Same dad. Is he always like that?”

Ola laughs. “He’s got two settings: awkward and okay or asshole, mostly he’s the first. And don’t worry about his boner, it’s not you specifically, he only learned to masturbate this year so his dick’s on overdrive. How did the same dad produce two so very different kids?” 

“You’d have to meet my mom and my library to understand,” Hope says. “You’re girlfriends? But you’re also our plumber?” While she’s talking, she walks over to her suitcase and gets out a clean T-shirt and panties. She turns away from everyone, drops the throw blanket, steps into the panties and pulls on the shirt, like she does this all the time. 

Amy is sharply aware of the cooling lube in and on her jeans, of the heavy pressure of the dildo trapped under the denim, how ridiculously turned on she still is—so much so that she can’t figure out how to move or talk. Even as the synthetic lube is congealing on her thighs, her body is throbbing out bursts of wet into her already soaked jeans. 

“My dad’s the plumber, I just do easy fixes,” Ola says. “And he’s busy so he sent me to look at your sink, but he’s going to have to come out and do it, the problem’s farther down the pipe. He’s going to have to use the big snake.”

The words “pipe” and “big snake” hang awkwardly in the air for too long until Lily blurts. “Were you using a dildo? Do you know how? Will you tell us? I really want to try one. I’ve been too scared to buy one but I’ve seen them online and they’re beautiful. Is yours the penis kind or one of the fantasy ones?”


	3. Chapter 3

Lily’s question hangs in the air. She follows her words a short way into the room, standing between the bed and the wall, eyes clear and hopeful. Ola walks over to her and takes her hand. 

“You’ve never seen a dildo in real life before?” Hope asks. 

“Online a bunch,” Lily says. “And in videos and everything, but I’ve been scared to order one. My parents are pretty cool about a lot of stuff, but … Should I get one? Are they great? Can I see yours?”

Amy is still standing in the middle of the open part of the room, nearly shaking from the heavy pressure in her jeans. Hope moves behind her, puts her hands on Amy’s hips and whispers, “What do you think?” 

Amy presses back into Hope, not daring to think anything. She likes these girls they’ve just met—but they JUST met them. Lily has a purity to her, knife-edged and keen, clear, crisp. The way she stares at the front of Amy’s jeans with wonder and avid interest makes Amy want Lily to keep looking at her. She can’t say that, though. 

Too self-conscious of the heat she’s feeling under Lily’s gaze, Amy peeks at Ola, who’s also looking in her direction, but up, over her shoulder. She can imagine the look Hope is throwing Ola: raised-eyebrow suggestive snark, enough sarcasm to give all of them an out if they need it, and plenty of smolder. 

Ola smiles back at her. Nobody just  _ smiles _ at Hope’s multi-layered looks—except this pint-sized girl in her post-ironic overalls and bright striped shirt. 

“Can you see from there?” Hope asks, although that’s not what she’s really asking. 

“The bedpost might get in the way,” Ola says, voice light, eyes crinkling from her smile. She pulls Lily by the hand, moving them to sit on the foot of the bed. 

They’re a lot closer, only a few feet from Amy. She almost backs away except Hope is behind her. And Hope’s fingers are tracking along the waist of her jeans to the zipper. As she pulls it down, Amy reaches back, finding the curve of Hope’s thigh to steady herself. She feels bigger than her body, maybe bigger than the room, and yet completely focused on Hope’s fingers brushing her lower belly on their way into her jeans. 

Hope’s left arm rises to wrap around Amy’s ribs and help steady her, and Amy covers that hand with hers, holding on. Her right hand still braces on Hope’s thigh, leaving one available hand between the two of them—the hand wrapping around the dildo in her pants. 

“You spilled a lot of lube in here,” Hope says. 

“Oh, that’s lube?” Lily asks.

Ola looks sharply sideways at her, eyebrow raised. “What did you think it was?”

Lily shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“The cap came off the bottle,” Amy says, the words rasping in her dry mouth. 

“Of course it did,” Ola says, a hint of laughter in the words, but her smile is conspiratorial, not mean.

Hope’s fingers slide along the dildo’s length, back and forth, more than she’d need to get it loose from the denim, rubbing it against Amy, who’s already having plenty of trouble standing. She widens her legs to keep balance. Hope tightens the arm around Amy’s ribs, brushing it along the underside of her breasts—and Amy desperately wants to be in bed with her, on top of her, kissing, rubbing together, coming with Hope’s leg between hers. 

Except she also wants this moment: the two of them being watched by these intent, delighted girls. She stares down the front of her body as Hope inches the dildo up, popping the tip free from the denim and then the shaft. Hope angles it forward in the V of the open jeans and strokes it into place there. 

Amy’s breath feels so tight and heavy, almost as dense as the pressure between her legs. Muscles pulse inside her and she can’t tell if they’re trying to push out or pull in, maybe both. 

“That’s so cool,” Lily says. “I think we should get one. Do you think we should get one?”

“I do,” Ola tells her. “I want to know what you’ve been looking at online.” 

“Oh! I want to show you! I had to do so much research for the comic,” Lily says. “Can I touch it?” 

It takes Amy a second to realize the last part was directed at her. “Um, it’s attached to me.”

“I think she’s just curious,” Hope says. “I don’t think she’s asking if she can jerk you off.”

“Right,” Lily says quickly. "No. I mean, we don’t really know you, it would be weird. I just wanted to know what it feels like but I can wait.”

Hope shrugs, the motion carrying from Hope’s shoulders into Amy’s. Hope is holding her so tightly, not only pressing her chest to Amy’s back, but pressing her pelvis, her mound, against Amy. Is this getting her hot too? That idea makes the muscles between Amy’s legs clench hard. Amy cannot for the life of her figure out why this is mind-blowingly hot. She’s shivering and she knows Hope can feel it. 

“It’s okay,” Amy says. “We’re not here for that long and I don’t want to … uh …”

“Stunt your sex education?” Hope suggests. 

“Exactly.” 

“Oh, thanks!” 

Lily reaches out and touches the tip of her index finger to the blue-purple dildo that isn’t literally throbbing but—as far as Amy’s concerned—feels like it is. The gesture is so tentative and cute that it takes the hotness down a level, gives Amy a moment to catch her breath. She can do this: give Lily a quick sex ed lesson about the glories of lesbianism, send the two of them off to some online shopping and still be in bed with Hope before all the pressure building inside her explodes. 

Lily rubs her finger in a little circle on the bobbling blue-purple head until Hope says, “You could try wrapping your hand around it. That’s more realistic.” 

Lily puts three fingers delicately around the upper shaft. 

“May I?” Hope asks and gets a nod. She lifts Lily’s pinky finger and joins it to the three on the shaft, then puts her hand over Lily’s wrapping it fully around, and strokes up and down. 

“I did this to a boy once,” Lily says. “But then he came and it was over. This is always going to stay hard. That’s kind of amazing.” 

The dildo might stay hard, but Amy won’t last if they keep doing this. Hope’s hand over Lily’s, Hope’s olive golden skin over Lily’s pale white, both stroking the dildo so it rubs her aching clit, is so much. 

Has she ever been this embarrassed before? Definitely not in a situation where she also felt incongruously safe. Too safe. So much so that the blood that should be rushing to her face (and some is) instead is rushing to her crotch, which now feels wetter than when she dumped half a bottle of lube into it. 

In an effort to diffuse the situation, she asks, “What were you all fighting about with Otis?”

This works! Lily takes her hand off the dildo and reaches for the sheaf of papers in the front of Ola’s overalls. “I draw comics. I made one that Otis didn’t appreciate. Do you want to see it?” 

“Yeah,” Amy tells her, genuinely interested and glad that Lily’s hands are occupied. 

Hope’s spare hand is now gently holding the slick dildo that feels more and more like an extension of Amy’s clit. She’s not stroking, just gripping and letting the natural small movements of the bodies, swaying as they stand together, press Amy against the dildo’s ridged base. Amy is pressing herself into it on purpose, but can’t get her hips to stop. 

Lily opens the pages, revealing carefully drawn, highly detailed comic panels. “It’s about a rogue operative from Glenoxi who attaches himself to a human boy. This part’s the operative.” She points to a large panel featuring a boy, who looks very much like Otis, with a giant tentacle dick. She’s pointing to the tentacle. “The boy and the operative must learn to work together to produce the magical spunk that will save an endangered wetland, but the boy isn’t very into it.” 

She turns the pages. It’s a lot of the tentacle dick getting bigger and rubbing itself against things while the boy wrestles with it. This should be super funny but somehow it’s also really hot. Possibly because Amy is standing across from the girl who drew it while she has a much smaller and less-tentacle version of an unfamiliar dick coming out of her jeans. And Hope is pushing it gently, rhythmically, persistently against her clit. 

“You should lie down before you fall down,” Ola says, standing up from the foot of the bed. Lily mirrors her movement and they’re both taking Amy’s arms and leading her to bed. 

She’s not sure what to do, except Hope is loosening her hold, pushing gently, helping Amy climb onto the bed and crawl up it. Mid-crawl she recognizes that if she’s not quite orgasming yet, she’s very much in the inevitable pre-orgasm stage, and lies down, as if she can hide it. This puts her back in firm contact with the dildo, now pointing up from her clit, its base right there for her to rub against—and she cannot stop herself. 

She grabs a pillow and drags it to her mouth, hoping to stay quiet. The mattress bends and settles with the weight of other people. Hope is lying next to her, pressed along her back, but there’s another person on her other side, sitting close enough to rub a soft circle under Amy’s shoulder blade. She wants that to be Ola because then Lily can still be standing at the foot of the bed, or kneeling on it, and watching. 

If she’s going to come—because she has to—she wants Lily to see her hips grinding down against the dildo, to see her shaking. She doesn’t know why, but Lily’s gaze makes this whole strange, wild situation better. She can picture Lily’s avid stare taking in the way Hope’s other hand, the one that hasn’t found its way back to Amy’s hip, clenches a fistful of blankets. She can imagine the way Lily’s gaze meets Ola as Ola’s fingers trace a circle that means “this is okay” on Amy’s back. 

She’s still shaking, and moaning into the pillow; Hope’s hand on her hip is pushing down, insisting she keep rubbing against the dildo and the bed. She can’t get her bearings in the swells of pleasure, can’t tell if she’s still coming or has or will. All three, she guesses, a trough between waves. 

The edge of the mattress dips again. Now Lily is definitely kneeling on the foot of the bed, her knees on either side of Amy’s tightly clasped, shuddering legs. She puts her palms on Amy’s calves, firm on the other side of the denim, gripping as if she’s holding a rudder or a steering wheel—not trying to stop her from shaking, just showing her where to go.

So she goes there, comes again, maybe a third time, hazy pleasure thrumming through her body, ricocheting among the three very different kinds of touch on her. 

Ola’s hand leaves her first and then Lily’s. The bed shifts as they climb off it. Hope spoons along her back, holding her tight and calls softly across the room, “Look in the green bag by the dresser.” 

There’s whispering and laughter, Lily giggling and Ola laughing outright, full of delight. The shuffling of paper, plastic and cardboard. Hope is kissing the back of her neck and the rise of her shoulder. If she thinks about all of this, she’s going to be too embarrassed, so she lets herself doze in the play of Hope’s touch and the friendly voices. 

*

She wakes up briefly to the feeling of Hope tugging her jeans down and off, taking off the harness, pulling a blanket over her and crawling under it with her. 

She wakes again because a phone alarm is playing a relentlessly cheerful beat. “Who’s calling?” 

“No one,” Hope tells her. “It’s half an hour to dinner. Do you need more sleep?”

The question is soft, but Hope’s voice sounds forced. Amy rolls over and looks at Hope’s dark hair spreading on the pillow, the muscles tight around her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you upset that we did that? Because we don’t … I didn’t … I only want you.”

“Please,” Hope breathes, a choked sound in the word. “I need you.”

“I’m here,” Amy tells her and then, seeing the dark flush on her throat, begins to understand Hope’s meaning. She glances at the clock; she’s been asleep for almost two hours. “Have you been waiting for me to wake up?”

“Yes. That was—good and I really don’t think I can keep waiting—keep from just doing it myself but I want you so much. Wanted to wait for you.”

Amy throws herself down the bed, between Hope’s legs, ignoring the tangle of blanket and the way her feet hang well over the edge. She has Hope’s clit in her mouth in a heartbeat, feeling how tight it is, like a pomegranate seed ready to burst, but she makes herself slow down. She licks up and down the impossible softness of Hope’s inner lips, slides her tongue through the heavy wetness and paints it onto Hope’s thighs. 

“Don’t tease,” Hope is panting. “Don’t. I waited.” Her hands are tight fists in Amy’s hair, not pushing or pulling, just resting against the back of Amy’s head so she can feel the tension in Hope’s muscles, the shaking need. 

Amy returns to Hope’s clit, rolling her tongue around it, sucking lightly, flicking with an increasingly fast pace until Hope  _ is _ pressing her closer, shaking hard, the sobbing, the grateful sounds she’s making muffled by her thighs so close against Amy’s ears. Amy keeps on until Hope’s hands release and fall to her sides, then adds gentle, soothing licks and kisses. She wants to fall asleep again, right here, her face between Hope’s legs. 

But she’s done this enough to know that she also really wants time to wash her face before dinner.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, they explore the lake in the morning. At the far end of the yard, by the water, the house has a short dock and small pontoon boat. Jared pilots while Molly backseat drives. Hope sunbathes while reading and Amy tries to read while watching Hope.

She dozes off after their picnic lunch, while they’re anchored by the small island, and wakes to the sound of Hope chuckling. How that woke her is a mystery, since Molly and Jared are splashing in the shallows between boat and island and making a lot more noise.

“What’s funny?” she asks, admiring the smirk on Hope’s lips.

“Ola is texting me that she and Lily can’t figure out how to use the toys they took. She wants a tutorial. Are you okay with them coming over in an hour or two?”

“Yeah, cool. I get to watch the tutorial too, right?”

“I thought you’d help me demonstrate,” Hope says.

So of course Amy can’t focus on her book or another nap and really wants to be back at the house now, so she can pre-demonstrate with Hope. But she doesn’t know what to say when Molly inevitably asks, “Why do we have to go back now?”

“Ola and Lily are coming over,” Amy says.

“Aww, you have friends here already, look at you. You’ll have no trouble wowwing the girls in Botswana,” Molly tells her.

And Amy thinks they’ve gotten away with something, until Ola and Lily arrive. There’s small talk, of course, but before Amy can get them into the bedroom and the door shut, Lily says, “It’s the ejaculating dildo, really. We can’t figure out how to make it do its thing.”

“The WHAT?” Molly’s question rings from the far side of the hall.

“Ejaculating dildo,” Lily says louder and more distinctly, as if Molly hadn’t heard it the first time.

With a look of exasperated patience, Hope says, “I had extra dildos and gave them some.” This sounds sensible and matter-of-fact coming from Hope, but Molly is sputtering.

“Who has extra dildos? Were you going to send some with Amy to give to the under-supplied lesbians of Botswana?”

“That’s kind of a good idea,” Amy mutters.

“My dad bought them for me and Amy, which is far too weird.”

“Your dad bought the ejaculating dildo?” Ola asks. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Hope says. “But I’ll work it out in therapy. And I’m assuming he just asked the clerk for the most popular ones—without saying what they were for—because no one in their right mind would’ve picked these out for teen lesbians.”

“These are really big and veiny,” Ola says, laughing. “And the synthetic spunk is of a questionable texture. But Lily still wants to see if she can make it shoot across the room.”

“I want to see that,” Molly says. “Can straight people watch?”

“We won’t offend your heterosensibilities by using a giant dick like a water pistol?” Hope asks.

“You certainly will not.”

Hope looks at Amy, who shrugs, so they head to the bedroom with the adjoining bathroom only to find it’s too small for six people—since Jared joined them, looking slightly pale despite a mild sunburn. No matter how they settle around the room, someone is doomed to be in the “line of spunk,” as Lily calls it.

Everyone troops down to the living room which has a couch long enough to fit five people in front of the wide picture window that looks out on part of the driveway, half the lawn and a bit of lake.

Hope fills the base of the dildo with the artificial spunk and says, “There’s a button right where the balls meet the shaft that makes it go. Lily, do you want to do the countdown?”

“Three, two, one—spunk!” Lily exclaims.

Hope hits the button and there’s a two second pause before the dildo jets a pale stream half-way across the living room rug. It jets twice more and then dribbles a bit.

“Can it go farther?” Lily asks. “Like if the spunk is in the balls and you squeeze them a little? I’m thinking we could use them for next year’s Shakespeare musical as guns when the play calls for swords.”

“Let’s find out.” Hope refills the dildo but then sets it on the end table because Jared went to get everyone drinks and Molly followed to help carry them back.

“We have more questions,” Ola says into the pause.

She and Lily are on the couch, sitting close, with Amy a bit away from them and Hope lounging in one of the armchairs. Amy really wants Hope on couch with her. Really wants to be touching her in any kind of way, but preferably with a lot of her body pressed against Hope’s. Something about watching Hope competently fill a dildo while lecturing about it and then shooting it across the rug was substantially hotter than Amy expected. She wants Hope to teach her a lot more about dildos, but privately and nakedly.

“Go ahead,” Hope says.

“I think I’m bad at oral sex,” Lily tells her. “Like I’m just mashing around down there and Ola gets impatient.”

Hope smirks—and it’s a long, slow, wicked smirk. “Amy’s really good at it. You should ask her to give you some pointers.”

“Um, I don’t … I just … it’s not like I know what I’m going to do before I do it,” Amy says.

“So you can’t tell them, you’d have to demonstrate?” Hope raises a very mischievous eyebrow. “I wonder what fruit Jared stocked us with.”

“No bananas!” Ola insists.

“Oh, of course not. Maybe a mango,” Hope says.

Of course that’s when Jared and Molly come back with the drinks, so Hope asks about the fruit situation.

“Grapes and berries,” Jared says, proudly.

“No oranges?” Hope asks. “Or maybe a melon?”

“They’re not in season. I could have the cook run out to the store. What are in the mood for?”

“Amy’s going to demonstrate oral sex, so we need something roughly the size and texture of a vulva,” Hope says.

“Oh,” Jared says and turns a dark red. But he doesn’t bolt out of the room. “Can I see that? I need some tips too.”

Hope has both eyebrows up, something like respect in her eyes. “How long does it take to get us vulva-sized fruit?” she asks.

“A couple of hours,” he says. “It’s kind of drive into town, at least the stores with the good selection.”

Molly has perched on a couch arm by Amy and is wearing her look of bull-headed determination. “You know what else is the size and texture of a vulva? An actual vulva. We have five of those.”

A swirl of thoughts invades Amy’s brain, including: wow, oral sex from Jared must be pretty bad! And: not my vulva! Plus: omg why is everyone saying “vulva?” Why am I thinking it? What is happening?!

“Are you volunteering?” Hope asks. “How would that work? Jared goes down on you while Amy gives pointers?”

“I can’t do that,” Amy blurts.

“Oh, right, you have intuitive knowledge of the mysteries of oral sex,” Hope starts in her sardonic tone and then stops abruptly, eyes widening.

Because she must’ve just realized what Ola is saying out loud, “So the only way for Amy to give us her mastery-level knowledge of the oral is for us to watch her go down on you.”

Expressions war on Hope’s features. She’s trying to keep her cool act up, to be the one who knows all the stuff about sex, so she can’t back out, but flickers of worry keep narrowing her eyes. And yet, Amy can see she’s also breathing a little fast.

She pushes off the couch and goes to the armchair, putting her hands on the arms, leaning down to whisper to Hope, “I’ll say no for us, if you want.” She takes a long breath, reminding herself that she’s leaving this country in a few days and that somehow she has her most awkward and smoothest moments with Hope. “Or, if you want, I’ll make you come in front of four people neither of us will see again for a really long time.”

Hope’s hands close over hers and clench. Amy feels hot breath on her cheek as Hope whispers, “Yes.”

She stands up, somewhat unsteadily given the heat and wetness between her legs. “Okay, we’ll do it.”

There’s whooping from Molly and Ola, a huge grin from Lily and Jared looking like he’s trying to stay invisible by not moving or meeting anyone’s eyes.

Hope pushes up from the chair and walks to the middle of the couch. “Come here,” she tells Amy. “I’m not going to be the only one in an awkward position.”

When Amy gets close, she unbuttons Amy’s jeans, grabs the dildo from the side table, and stuffs it down the front of them. The jeans are lightweight and loose. After a moment of wrangling, Hope has the dildo angling across the top of Amy’s thigh, held in place by her (now very tight) panties and the jeans. It makes a huge bulge. Amy almost laughs, but the base is pressing against her clit and the bulge echoes the way she feels about Hope right now.

Hope strips out of her shorts and panties. Amy’s not sure if anyone is breathing as Hope sits on the couch with her legs parted. She looks like a fucking goddess, slightly tan from the morning, long and elegant. Amy is completely ready to fall to her knees in front of her.

But Lily says, “Hope has a point. It doesn’t feel right if she’s the only one exposed like this.”

Ola smirks, sighs and undoes her pants. She shucks pants and panties and sits on the couch about a foot away from Hope.

Molly’s expression is deep discomfort, so Amy says, “You don’t have to. But you know I’ve seen you naked about a million times.”

“Changing clothes does not count,” Molly says. She sighs and adds, “The things I do for sisterhood.”

Amy grabs a throw pillow from the armchair to give herself a second, but then she’s kneeling between Hope’s legs, stealing peeks at Molly to her right as Jared gets his own knee pillow. Molly’s right that changing is not at all like this. She’s seen Molly naked, stolen more looks than Molly knows, but not this view: looking up while Molly’s seated, seeing the full thickness of Molly’s thighs, the way her full belly hangs down over her top of her pubic mound, making it seem more secret, more precious.

Amy likes the linear hotness of Hope, of course, but she’s always had a thing for heavier girls, probably from growing up with at least three crushes on Molly at different ages. She always just assumed that Molly’s physical weight and the substance of her thinking went together, that her body was the demonstration of her intelligence, and she sees nothing to contradict this now. The only reason she’s grateful to be between Hope’s thighs and not Molly’s is that she knows Molly isn’t attracted to her.

“Where do we start?” Lily asks perkily as she kneels on her pillow.

“Do you know how Ola touches herself? Is it more of a circle or back and forth or up and down?”

Ola reaches down and demonstrates a back and forth motion, then chuckles and puts her hands over her eyes. That’s so cute that Amy turns to Jared to give Ola and Lily a moment. He looks scared.

“Mol?” Amy asks.

“Circle,” she says.

“First I go in and lick around some, maybe sneak a finger up to see how wet she is,” Amy says and then leans forward to demonstrate. She runs her tongue around Hope’s clit, then up and down the silken inner labia, brushes her lips over that whole landscape, slips a hand between Hope’s legs, a finger between her lips to find her already soaking wet.

“Okay,” she says, gasping and trying not to be too aware of how fast her breath is already. “You can’t do that too long or they’ll get impatient, so next I go to the clit and do whatever pattern they do themselves. Just with your tongue do the back and forth or circle like your tongue is a finger.”

She does, applying the mixed circle with up-and-down pattern that Hope likes. Hope’s fingers are brushing the side of her face, tiny strokes that encourage her to keep going. Hope’s hips are beginning to move, offering her clit forward for Amy to brush harder with her tongue.

“You have to ...” Amy is panting lightly now. “Pay attention to her reactions. Notice what makes her breath faster or move toward you or make sound. But then don’t only do that. Maybe two-thirds what she likes and one-third playing around, exploring. You’re teasing and looking for new things she likes.”

“Exploring the clit?” Lily asks. Ola has her head back, eyes closed, one hand clenched on the arm of the couch.

Amy’s unsure how she can feel like a master of the universe and an immense dork simultaneously, but she does.

“Not just that,” she tells Lily. “Look at her hand, she’s really into what you were doing, but give her a little break, kiss her thighs, kiss the other parts between her legs, lick a little.”

Lily goes in like a deep sea welder with a long list of tasks to complete before her oxygen runs out.

“Slow down,” Amy tells her. She tries to demonstrate by pressing her lips to Hope’s inner lips, sucking them lightly. She would kiss down Hope’s inner thigh, but Hope’s fingers are in Amy’s hair, telling her not to move away.

“What am I doing wrong?” Jared asks from Amy’s other side.

She presses her cheek against Hope’s thigh in a physical groan before she can straighten up and look. Molly has pulled a corner of throw blanket across her face, which is a good sign, but Jared might not know that. Her legs are wide open and … damn, those thighs. Someday Amy will have a girlfriend built like that.

“She wants more,” Amy says. “What have you been doing?”

“Kissing around, like you said.”

“Okay, more time on her clit, like 80% and have you fingered her before? Did it go well?”

“Yeah, I think.”

“If she’s wet, do that.”

Amy doesn’t have to watch to know when Jared’s fingers slip inside Molly, she can hear the groan from under Molly’s corner of the throw blanket. Meanwhile, Hope is glaring smolderingly down at her like: are you going to take your own advice? So she slides two fingers into Hope’s slick heat. Then she has to put her mouth on Hope’s clit, moving her tongue but also rocking her head gently side to side, so that Hope’s getting one motion from Amy’s tongue and another from her lips.

Hope isn’t as loud as Molly, but between the two of them, the moans and gasps and building in intensity. Ola makes words, mostly “yes” and “more” and a few in a language that doesn’t even sound human. Lily is humming happily.

Amy tears herself away again to add a last instruction, “You can move your head back and forth or, if you’re doing that with your tongue, up and down. And remember you can go in and out for more or less pressure. Vary everything but keep doing more of what she likes. Pay attention to her body. Match her intensity.”

Lily murmur hums something affirmative. She’s tonguing and moving her head and her hand, with her other hand inside her pants. Ola is saying “yes” more often than anything else, so they’re good.

On her other side, Molly is arching her back, breathing hard into the blanket. Jared has one hand working fingers inside her and the other is squeezing the front of his pants. It’s not quite as filled out as Amy’s, but it’s hard to imagine an actual human being able to do that. She takes a hint from him and puts a hand over the base of the dildo, rubbing it against her clit.

Hope is getting close because she’s saying “Oh,” faster and breathier, mixing with Ola’s rising yeses. The whole room has to smell of sex now, the scent lifted on the faint late afternoon breeze from the open windows. The lake is bumping the boat against the dock, like it’s getting in on the action, and lapping at the shore with an almost crackling sound.

Amy feels Hope’s orgasm building in her. She slows and makes Hope’s fingers clench in her hair, makes Hope force her closer. Hope shoves her clit hard against Amy’s tongue and wracks her shoulders back into the cushions as she comes hard, mouthing voiceless “Oh”s into the thick air of the room.

Molly moans into the blanket, her calf hitting Amy’s shoulder as she arches back harder, shaking. Jared makes muffled yeses into her pussy. Ola actually says, “I’m coming,” and the couch cushions shake as she writhes under Lily’s mouth.

Amy is so close herself. She wants to come now with Hope’s clit between her lips, Hope’s wetness on her chin, this impossible weight in her pants.

But the door creaks open and an unfamiliar woman’s voice says, “Oh my God!”

She sounds older, like someone’s parent. By reflex, Amy jumps to her feet, ready to steer her away from everyone else.

A beautiful, silver-haired woman is standing inside the doorway with a pan of brownies in one hand. A few paces behind her, staring in the picture window, is Otis—so Amy can guess whose mom this is.

Jared has thrown himself across Molly’s naked parts like a soldier. Lily and Ola are blinking in shock. Hope hasn’t even opened her eyes.

And Amy is so close to the edge of her orgasm she doesn’t dare take a step, but she really wants to steer this woman out of the house. She grabs the base of the dildo to pull it away from her clit, but it’s stuck with her sweat and wetness. She tries to jiggle it loose and it only slides firmer against her. Determined to stop, even though she can feel her pussy starting to spasm and clench, can feel her clit thrumming, she grabs it harder, clutches it for dear life as she’s coming—thrills of pleasure running under her skin—and trying not to let it show on her face.

She maybe only looks startled? Maybe only looks distraught. Maybe doesn’t look like her vision is flashing white and she’s flooding her panties.

The woman, Otis’s mom, is staring at the couch and her expression isn’t all shock. There’s curiosity and bemused opprobrium.

Amy’s orgasm has almost let her go. If she can still walk, she’ll just …

The first stream of overly-liquid fake spunk streams out of the dildo into her jeans. She feels the warm wetness go down her leg and look in time to see it soaking the light blue material dark in a line from the thick head of the dildo to her knee. The second stream spills partly out through the denim and trickles down the outside.

Hope has her eyes open now, wide, hands to her mouth as she watches. Ola actually grabs Lily’s shoulder so she’ll turn and see. Even Otis in the driveway is staring through the window at her.

Another stream goes down her leg and another. Like the first shots from Hope earlier were just clearing out the dildo’s hole and now it’s going to shoot for all its worth. Amy can feel the spunk dribbling down the side of her calf. She’d loosened her grip on the base of the dildo as her orgasm eased, but now she’s gripping it hard again, trying to stop it. She puts the other hand on the tip, holding in the next burst. Her jeans are soaked in a thick line from mid-thigh to the bottom.

“What is going on here?” Otis’s mom asks.


End file.
